FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination 
mobile edition|
Author of 65 Stories |
In Need Of A Friend
Hi! I love MASH.
I started with a story that would have EVERY character in it, but the idea mutated, and it turned into this. I don't think this would happen, and nor would I want it to.
B.J. centered. PG-13 for death, and cheating...but I don't think it wouldn't be on the show. Except the death.
If you think I should lower the rating, tell me!
So, this story popped up! I'm dedicating this story to Radar hunnihawk, who wrote the fan fiction about MASH, Breaking through the Comfort Points.
But, I think it is unfair to dedicate it to one person, when some haven't even found this yet. So, this is also dedicated to everyone reading this. I know, I know...mushy!
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing... but hopefully, your smart enough to figure that out.
TIMELINE & SPOILERS: All of the Seasons.
B.J. chuckled to himself. Probably sneaking around with another nurse. B.J. thought, and yes, there was a new nurse in the 4077th.
There had been a lot more new personnel showing up. The war had just gone into the climax. More people, on BOTH sides, were getting drafted.
B.J. sighed as he returned to his letter to his wife, Peg. The thought of her alone, was enough to bring a smile on his sleepy, tortured face.
B.J. was, for once, out of any words to write to his beloved. He had written her a lengthy, 3 page letter to her recently. But B.J. felt that he needed someone to talk to, even if he had nothing to say.
Hawkeye hadn't been around lately. B.J. hadn't seen him in the Swamp, and he only saw him during OR. B.J. vaguely wondered if something was wrong, but how was he supposed to comfort someone who wasn't there.
B.J. flopped the unwritten letter on the end of his cot, and reached for the still. At home, he wouldn't have drunk so much booze, but here, it seemed sometimes, that it was his only friend. B.J. looked up at the other occupant of the Swamp. Things seemed too out-of-place recently. Charles hadn't cracked a joke, or had a witty remark. Actually, B.J. didn't think Charles had said anything. Was it Hawkeye that was keeping the social stats up-to-date!
"Hey, Charles." B.J. called across the empty tent. Charles looked up, a look of surprise that the silence had been broken. "What?" he asked back.
"Want a drink?"
There it was. A small invitation. Nothing to other people. But the two in the room knew it was something more. A plea for companionship? An offer of friendship? A lonely, bored man who had dropped until he yearned for some conversation, from a man who he would usually not start a conversation with?
Charles's eyes became slits as he seized up the man. Slowly, Charles nodded. He had watched the other doctor, who didn't want to remember. But, in the back of his head, B.J. probably remembered that something was wrong, and needed a friend, someone to talk to.
Everyone came to visit him, check on him, try and snap him out of the trance.
Suddenly, B.J. shot up, the damp rag flew across the floor, as Margaret scooted back. A look of pure terror pasted itself on his young face. The memories had came back. Ever sense it had happened, he couldn't, or wouldn't, remember. 'Poor Beej.' the major said for the um-teenth time today.
But the romantic red glow, was not a sunset, or even a disco light. It was the all-too-close explosions of the war. Bombs were the music to this sad dance, and the glow consisted of the debris and sheded blood. The crystal floor was actually the compound dirt, covered with the early-winter frost.
His boots crinkled the soft layer, and Hawkeye was stuck in the moment. Pure bliss. Bliss only drinking out of the range, can bring. Inside, deep inside, where the booze hadn't effected yet, he knew something was wrong, but he shushed the feeling.
Then, the black sky, like a never ending abyss, turned against him. It exploded with red, and the sound had turned from crinkle, to an overpowering boom. Hardly hearable over the explosion of the bomb, a primal scream. Hawkeye Pierce had never, and will never, utter such a cry again. For the snow white ground was covered with fresh blood, pouring out of the body lying on the ground.
B.J. sat back down on the cot, Margaret Houlihan hovering worriedly above him. The memories flooded back in his empty brain, and he had to let his eyes close. For if they were open, the major would see milky tears pour out of bright, dead eyes.
He had killed Hawkeye. Everyone told him it wasn't his fault, but he knew the truth. Even the great B.J. 'Anything you want it to.' Hunnicutt couldn't deny it to himself.
B.J. had gotten a letter from Peg, his loving wife. Only to be hurtled to depression. She had written to him, claiming 'tears covered' the short page. Tom, the happy-go-lucky next-door neighbor, had 'sweet talked' Peg. She apologized, and said that it was 'meant to be'. She sent the divorce papers in the letter.
'Probably going to marry him the second I send the paper back...signed, of course.' B.J. hazily thought as he chugged down his 26th drink from the still. Trying to drink his pain away. 'It was so unexpected. I thought she loved me.' He thought. "Here's to you, my friend!" B.J. whispered to his glass, twirling the red liquid around so the bright light bounced off the ice, making sparkles fill the gloomy room.
Hawkeye and Charles had entered then, Hawkeye with his quick retort. He had asked a silly question, and B.J., un characteristicly, bit his head off. Words got a bit heated, when Hawkeye tried to take the 31st drink from B.J.'s shaking hand. That's when all hell exploded.
Charles had sat off to the side, not wanting to get in the middle. Tension had been high, and the famous Hawkeye had stretched B.J. over the limits.
The two tighter-than-twins had shouted at each other, things had been thrown, hurtful words were passed. The 4077th had been a buzz, the main event being in the Swamp. But, this was beyond belief. No one could have thought that the two best friends could go this deep.
Hawkeye had stormed out of the tent, with B.J. hurling things after him. Everyone by now, knew about the letter Peg had sent, how drunk he was. Hawkeye needed to cool off. He went to the Officer's Club, and drunk his sorrows away. After getting blitzed, he went of to the supply room, a date that Nurse Sarah had refused. But in Hawkeye's peaceful mask, his troubled mind had told him that she had said yes.
That's when it happened, the drunk doctor had stumbled into the mindfield, bombs that were way-too-close, setting off the already triggered mines. The doctors were in shock, Nurses were crying, and enlisted men were trying to calm everyone down, and keep the peace. Did anyone blame B.J.? Or Nurse Sarah? Most didn't know what to think.
The drinks were affecting B.J., and his temperature soared up, only fueled by the news about Hawkeye.
B.J. was up in bed, looking longly at the tubes sticking out of him. Nurses were else where, and he wanted revenge. On...himself. He wanted to pull them out, to kill himself. He was about to get up, when a figure in the shadows stepped up.
After the accident, B.J. had refused to believe the events of that fateful Monday. So, after waking up the next morning with a slight fever, he had pretended that nothing happened. Hawkeye was off 'playing' with a nurse, and Peg was waiting patiently at home. All delusions his mind made.
That afternoon, he had tried writing her a letter, but the back of his sub-conscience told him not to right to her. Something was wrong, but the drinks, hangover, and fever was clouding his vision. He had asked Charles for a drink. His conscience told him to do so.
Now, he was in a sick-bed. Tubes sticking out. And Charles stepped out of the shadows. "Hey, Beej." he said quietly. " 'Lo" was his only reply.
"That's not the only way out. It wasn't your fault." Charles counseled, as he read the other person's mind. To get out of the pain, reak revenge, end the pain, to kill himself.
"Can we talk? I'm just in need of a friend." B.J. replied quietly.
Charles smiled, and nodded. And the two doctors, one a patient, one a friend, talked and opened up.
Sidney Freedman was called up.
